Will of the Blade
by RetroFireFly56
Summary: Betrayed by her templar family, Christina must now choose what matters to her most, her newly found brotherhood, or her chances at rejoining her heritage.
1. Prologue

An: I really enjoyed the Cristina missions on Assassins Creed: The Brotherhood  , but the one where she tells him she never wanted to see him again... I didn't like that, I kinda wanted to smack her in the face 0_o... then I thought, nah, I'll just rewrite it where she does wanna see him again :D...

...and guess what... I am!

PS: Does anyone know what her last name was? I'm pretty sure that it started with a v :P

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><p>Rejected, hated, and hunted by her own betrayed family members, and even her dearest husband for over fifteen years, Cristina now found herself desolate on the streets with no home or money to her name. Long had she thought of joining <em>The Rosa in Flore<em> as a corteasan for a place she could be sheltered and call home amongst friends, but the requirements were traitorous to her upbringing and stature she still claimed even though she was now a beggar on the streets. She had learned to stay away from such a building, and even refer to such women as whores, but who is she now that her own father had referred to her as one? Is she what she once looked down upon?

As the day rolled on the crowds began to dwindle into loners on desolate streets that constantly feared being jumped by highwaymen. This was her way of life now, and had been to nearly a year now. She'd learned not to fear them if she were to act as if she had nothing to her name, and she didn't. What coin she had was tucked away in the ground close to the small bungalow-like shelter she called home. There she prayed guards didn't dig it up.

"_Assassino_!" A man's voice yelled from a distance, followed by a crowd of bystanders terrified cries as the clashing of swords and the distress of guards meeting their ends echoed through the starry night.

Curiosity peeked her senses as she founds herself fighting her way through the crowd of distressed people. She screamed when she came across a slain Borgia captain lying daintily at the foot of his horse. His face was covered in crimson red fluid that soaked his once shining armor, and made his last facial expression unreadable. Suddenly, his horse reared back with a loud whiny that defeaned her, and she looked up to see the stranger's face that had spooked the white stag.

"Ezio?"She asked herself in a whisper that seemed to echo throughout her own mind. The rider seemed to slow himself, but seemed to be unfazed under that white hood of his.

"Requesta in pache," he said lowly before he whipped the reins and rode away from her with a torch in his hands.

She felt her heart swell with a love she thought she'd lost years ago to man that was a murderer. Gripping the ends of her skirt, she stood before the bewildered crowd that watched as if they were waiting for her head to fall off. Anger lashed out as she picked up a stone and hurled it at the wondering eyes. It landed near the center of them all while she stomped forward, the hard gravel and dirt penetrating the hardened sole of her foot, but she didn't care.

"Mamma, why didn't the assassin chop her head off?" She heard an innocent child ask in the background.

"Rodrigo, shush," the child's mother scorned as she lead them away swiftly.

Tears were swarming her face by the time she threw her front door open and closed herself off to the public. She hadn't a clue why she was crying over a man she'd told to never ever find her again, whether it be by accident or on purpose. Her love for him died years ago, or so she thought. Why was she crying over a man that was the reason she was thrown from her templar upbringing?

In the background she could hear the sound of explosions going off, and more screams of terrified citizens following it, but this time she made no move to show her face. It was dirty and ugly now, and her hair wasn't pulled up, and worse than all of that, she was in a dirty rag-tag dress that was beginning to show her limbs. The Christina Ezio saw was a beautiful young lady that every man wanted by their side, but the Christina everyone saw now was a woman with no children or husband anymore, and was an ugly, unkept whore. Ezio could never love her again.

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><p>an: Weak ending I know, but I thought it was kinda dramatic :p sorry if you don't think so.<p>

READ AND REVIEW PRETTY PLEASE! :)


	2. Age of Discovery

She never thought she'd end up at the doorstep of The Rosa in Flore with her money tucked safely between her breasts, and the willingness to give herself up to any man in exchange for coin. Gently, she lay her palm on the door that seemed to open itself up to the overly perfumed smell of sex and lust of the inn. She squinted at the red walls and decor that seemed over power all in it, and the red rose petals that lay daintily across the floor. In the corner, a courtesan was moving her hips seductively for a man playing a flute, and in the other, a drunk laying lazily over another girl. She wasn't going to enjoy this, but life wasn't fair; that she knew for sure.

"Welcome to the Rosa in Fiore," a kind female voice cooed from behind her. "My name is Stella. How may I help you?"

"I need a job as a courtesan. My family has rid of me for my insolence," she whispered as she felt her eyes swell with tears of her lost family and family name.

"Oh you to huh? Well join the rest of us sister," the once sweet voice said in a ugly, nonchalant tone.

Perplexed and stunned, Cristina gazed at the black headed courtesan until another feminine voice parted the silence between the two. This woman was much older and wiser she could tell, but the tone that she used seemed familiar to her. She just really couldn't place her finger on where she'd heard it though. It seemed like a distant memory that seemed important at one point in time, but why she couldn't place a name and face was beyond her. Then she turned around and felt her heart plummet to the very depths of her innards.

"Stella, I've told you many times that no woman is denied her rightful stay at The Rosa in Fiore," Maria Auditore scolded as she drifted across the floor to greet the women. "This will be your last warning."

"Yes Madame Auditore," Stella answered with a bow of her head before she gave Cristina an evil look and wondered off to seduce a drunk man waving his money around.

"I apologize for Stella, she hasn't been the same since her sister Beatrice was killed last spring," Maria sighed as she placed a gentle hand on Cristina's shoulder and lead her around the main parlor of The Rosa in Fiore, explaining the history and placement of the building. What shocked Cristina the most, was the fact that Maria wasn't the owner, but indeed Ezio's younger sister, Claudia. She prayed neither of them recognized her as the once famed Cristina Vespucci, or the woman that broke their Ezio's heart. "So are you sure you're up for the job?"

"Yes madame," she answered with a nervous tone.

"Good," Maria smiled as she lead her towards a group of girls gossiping in the corner. " Ghita, this is Cristina. She'll be under your influence until she's ready to go out on her own."

"Hello Cristina, so nice to have you," Ghita said sweetly as she pulled her into the group of three. "It's so wonderful to have another woman join the Rosa in Flore."

Cristina nodded, much more comfortable now that she was warmly welcomed by at least one courtesan, and possibly two more that were in her group. Now, she didn't feel as if it'd be so bad when she had friends amongst snooty faces. The only thing she knew she would have a major problem with was the provocative, wine colored dress that she was told to where along with tied sandals and ribbons in her hair. As she looked in the mirror she felt the ugly sin of revealed flesh and lust set upon her. Seeing this, Ghita set both hands on her arms and put her head on her shoulder in a motherly way, almost as if saying that everything was going to be alright.

"Remember Cristina, God is very forgiving."

"I know Ghita, I just can't get over the fact that I've sunk this low for money." The words came out before she could think about them, and she clamped her mouth shut and quickly apologized for the hideous comment against courtesans.

"It's quite alright. We all know how it feels, but you'll get used to it. There are a few things I must go over with you though," she stated with a hair pin in her mouth. "First of all, the assassins are our allies. Any information that we receive from them is strictly confidential, and if we find that you have leaked any information to anyone you will be ban from the Rosa in Flore, and Roma itself. Second," she stuck the pin in Cristina's hair, creating the first swirled bun, "You are to keep a dagger at your side at all time. It's a very dangerous town we live in, believe it or not."

"I can believe it," she sighed as Ghita finished the second bun and tied the rest off in a pony tail. "Thank you very much Ghita. Maybe in time the girls here will learn to except me," she said in a way to bring up the incident with Stella without being totally obvious. She hadn't realized that she bothered her that much until now, and the fact that her sister Beatrice was killed last spring added to the confusion. This wasn't the first time she began to question her choices though.

"Don't worry about Stella, she'll come around eventually. Did you know her sister was murdered somewhere last spring?" She asked surprisingly calm as she danced around putting up pins and needles where they belong.

"Yes, I believe Madame Auditore informed me of this shortly after we met."

Ghita shook her head solemnly, "Bloody sight. We found her outside in the water fountain with a Borgia flag stabbed in her back. Stella was so distraught that she ripped it out and stomped on it and swore at the Borgia," she sighed as she remembered the awful day. "And you know what that means."

"Stella was publicly disgraced?" Cristina asked, astonished that a woman was so brave as to do such a thing.

"Badly, if you look on her back you can see the scar from where they whipped her."

Cristina's eye's widened as she realized what Stella had gone through quite recently. It was bad enough that she lost her sister, but to add to the pain, the Borgia had disgraced her in front of everyone. She wondered how the assassins reacted to this being that the courtesans were their allies, and if what she'd saw last night was part of the rebellion. Ezio would never do anything like that out of cold blood. He wasn't a murderer, but an assassin looking to protect those from the ones who were the murderers. In this case, the murderers had to be the Borgia. It seemed like Cristina wasn't the only one that saw their blood sucking ways.

"Where do I start?" She asked as she followed Ghita and her group out of The Rosa in Flore and into the busy streets of Rome.

"We're going to start out in our usual spot. It's south of the marketplace, and far away form Mr. Boots corner," another girl behind her explained. "That is, unless Ezio needs us to be a distraction."

"Mr. Boots? Who's Mr. Boots... and Ezio may come around?" She said as she felt her stomach lurch at the thought of Ezio seeing her like this.

"Yes, didn't I tell you that we are allies of the assassins?" Ghita asked as she lead the group around an ally corner where the excited shouts of horny men couldn't be heard. "Mr. Boots is out nickname for Donato Franco Santiono, he is an ex-monk that likes to pray amongst us courtesans for our sins of revealed flesh. He was ban from the church for spilling his wife and his youngest daughter's blood after his wife couldn't bare him a son, Lia here managed to escape his wrath and found her way to find the guards before she was murdered as well."

"Mimi was just born one day before," Lia, the girl in the emerald green dress in front of her croaked before she let the teas run down her face. "My Papa was, and still is, a disgrace to Rome. Ezio tried to run him out, but he came back under his nose."

It was about that time when the sun began to rise over the sprawling metropolis and reveal it's true beauty, and that means it was time for the girls to get to work. Cristina followed the impression the rest, being just as flirty, and trying to be just as sexy, but the thought that she was doing something wrong remained imprinted in her thoughts until night time. She didn't question how long they would be there because she felt it unnecessary to want to return before they had made a single penny yet, and there was the yearning to want to see Ezio again. She didn't want him to see her though. The shamefulness of being caught by the man she loved, in a dress like that, and selling herself for money was completely unbearable. She wanted her family name and title back so bad, but after what had happened, she didn't know if any of them could ever forgive her, and she didn't know what was worse, stooping down to the level of a courtesan, or being rejected again.

"There he is," Ghita whispered to her group. " Be prepared ladies, we might have a job on our hands; he looks like he's in hurry."

Cristina searched the crowd effortlessly before she saw Ezio's white hood storming towards them. Ghita was right, he did look like he was in quite a rush, and in further inspection she found why. A group of guards were following him closely, and gaining speed with every step. She ducked behind Lia, who was quite a bit taller than she, in hopes of escaping his view. If he stopped then she'd have a heart attack on spot, and would be safe from what he thought of her then.

"Come with me," he said lowly as he threw a small money purse at Ghita.

"Lia, you and I take the back. Cristina, you and Giovanetta take the front," she whispered as the began to follow him, eventually helping him hide in a group of people with wondering eyes.

"Only take the guards," Giovanetta whispered to Cristina as drunks began to wave around their money.

Nodding, Cristina attempted to keep her face hidden from him. She'd bathed before she left The Rosa in Fiore, but she still felt so dirty without everything she used to have when they fell in love. He probably didn't want to see her again anyway counting the day she told him to never find her again. If she could, she'd take back everything she'd said to him other than the 'I love you' they used to share so long ago. She wanted to tell him now so bad, but knew that she couldn't. To him, their love was probably dead anyway.

"Bella, bella, bella!" A deep mans voice rang from in front of them before she and Giovanetta were grabbed away from the group and lead the other way. " How are you this fine night?" A city guard asked her as he took her arm and followed Giovanetta and his comrades.

"I'm fine, just a little scared in this town. A little girl like me needs a big, strong man at her side to protect her from the scary highway men," she said in the most seductive tone she could manage without choking.

"That could be me then," the fifth member of the patrol group cooed as he took Cristina's hand and stroked the top of her breasts with the other.

In front of her, Giovanetta giggled at, and soon enough it became a contest of which woman could flirt the best. It lasted until they got back to The Rosa in Fiore, and so far Giovanetta was in the lead with three guards hovering around her. She is the veteran at this anyway, so it would only make more sense if she caught more attention.

"Here's your room Cristina," Giovanetta giggled, " Have fun you three."

* * *

><p>It was late when he finally penetrated into the Borgia territory that surrounded the Il Colosseo. With limited cover and aid, he had to get in and get out quickly before anyone noticed him. With so many Cardinals and Borgia messengers around, it was going to be tough. He spotted a few Cardinal groups lingering around the ruins to the south and knew there was more to the story than just another Borgia tower keeping, but what that story was he didn't know.<p>

"Manfredo!" Cesare Borgia demanded as he marched into the center of Il Colosseo. "Manfredo Soderini, you bastardo get in here! And bring that useless cousin in law with you!"

Ezio's ears peaked at the name Manfredo Soderini. It was Cristina's husband, and for whatever reason he was there with Cesare he didn't know. He didn't even know that he was a templar, or even less a guard. Something was going on, and he wanted to know.

"What is it Cesare? Why must you call me out of my home in the middle of the night?"

"I think you know that," Cesare scolded as he stuck the tip of his captain's sword under his chin. "Everyone knows your wife bore an that assassin, Ezio Auditore's son all those years ago. I suggest you stifle this rumor before I change my mind in making you first captain, and you old man as the new pope!"

"Cazzo," Ezio whispered as he felt his heart thud with the information he'd obtained. "I have a son? Why didn't she ever tell me about this," he whispered to himself as he tried to get closer to the conversation.

Cristina had failed to mention that to him in all of their meetings. The stinging reality that she may not have wanted him, wanted anyone for the matter, to know that she had a child by him hurt more than any blade ever could. If anything, he wanted to see him, and see if he carried on the Auditore looks. If Cristina would allow it that is.

"Please Cesare, she conceived Elia before I had married her, for he was two years old at our wedding," he pleaded as he gently pushed the blade away from his adams apple. "I assure you that the whore is expelled from our humble home and ban from ever seeing any of her children. She will not bother our plans."

"She better not for your sake Manfredo," Cesare growled as he slid his sword back into it's sheath. "And that boy better never know who his father is. If the assassins gain anymore power then we can kiss all that we worked for goodbye, and that means you and Amerigo die."

"Yes sir," Manfredo and Amerigo said as they bowed and watched as Cesare stormed out.

Ezio was frozen in spot, brewing over everything. He'd saved that bastard's life, and this is what he got for it. For his love for Cristina, he'd allowed him to live and help the templars prosper under his nose. Now his son was in danger from his blood line, and he would be damned before he'd allow that, but first things first. Find Cristina.


	3. Elia oh Elia

An: Thank you everyone for the reviews :) They've really been an inspiration.

And now we're going to take an inside look on Elia Soderini/auditore (whichever you wanna call him :P) but remember, and this point in the story Elia doesn't know that Ezio is his father, not Manfredo. That was in the last chapter just so you know.

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><p>With only a faint candle to see by, Elia flipped through the pages of his mother's diary. He'd kept it a secret that she'd given it to him after she was banished last year in fear that his father may take it away from him. She said there was something in there that he should know, but he'd studied it for over a year and still hadn't found what he was looking for. Most of it consumed itself of her daily life, and recipes, nothing he was interested in. Still, on every other page there was a random date and line. He supposed that was what she was talking about, but none of it made sense.<p>

"_To guide yourself by your father's life_," he read aloud over and over, attempting to put it together. "Craizo, mother. Why must you make everything so difficult? Do you want me to gamble or something?"

Tomorrow he was going to turn seventeen, and wanted to be as far away from the household as possible. He and his father never got along so well, especially on his birthday, and he was already promised that he could spend the day at Gabrielle's house on the far side of Rome. His grandfather wanted to tag along and keep an eye on the boys, but his younger sister Caprice talked him into spending the day teaching her etiquette. She was thirteen, and to be married when she turned fifteen to Cesare's nephew. He was going to be enrolled in the guard, or so his father said, so he could start learning a little respect, but his father changed his mind last minute and hasn't said a word of it since.

"Elia," Gabrielle whispered from outside the window. "Elia come on, my mother wants us back before sun rise."

"I'm coming, Gabrielle," he answered as he stuffed the diary in his lock box and climbed out of the window. "Quickly, my father is probably going to be back soon. Let's take the backwoods."

They sprinted through the thorn filled brush of the woods behind Elia's house, uncaring that the thorns were sticking into their thick pants or boots. Gabrielle was faster than Elia, but he lacked the climbing ability he did, but by the time both boys had found their way out of the woods, the sun had began to kiss the towers of Rome. They were going to be late either way it was, but they doubted Elma, the maid, would care that much. Gabrielle's mother would still likely be asleep, and Elma would tattle on them. One reason why Elia liked it better at Gabrielle's house, everyone was pretty much free going.

"You boys are late," Elma greeted from the kitchen. "Gabe, your father has already went to work. He wanted to know where you were. I told him that you went to fetch Elia, is that alright?"

"It's fine. Thank you Elma," Gabrielle said as he tried to catch his breath and wipe his blond hair away from his face. "What's for breakfast? You do know that it's Elia's birthday today."

Elma cast a warm smile in his direction. "Happy birthday, Elia. I'm so glad you decided to spend it with us."

"Thank you, Elma," he returned the smile with a slight bow of his head.

They all sat down to a good breakfast made up of goat cheese, grapes, fresh milk and bread that Elma had made thanks to the garden outside and the abundant marketplace. Elia hadn't realized until then that he was that hungry until he watched the food on his plate vanish in less than a minute. He had to hand it to Elma, she was an amazing cook, much better than his maid, Coco, who constantly complained of her husband's neglect to bring home money. His father had hired her after his mother conceived her third child, his five year old brother Dante, and has regretted it ever since.

"Elma, when mother gets up tell her that Elia and I went to the market place," Gabrielle yelled from the door way.

"Before you go, will you two strong boys ring a few chicken necks for me? My old hands just can't do it anymore."

The chickens were cooped up out back where the sun was hitting the farm patches just right. It was a hot day, and the chickens were scattered about, looking for shade to cool themselves. With no idea on how many Elma wanted, Elia made a grab for the one that was asleep in it's nest. It squawked loudly, alerting the others, and creating a feathered mess of chickens and roosters panicing about. He tried to silence them quickly by snapping the alarm's neck and tossing it to Gabrielle, but this seemed to scare them worse.

"Hold this one, I'm going to go for the fat hen on the far left," Gabrielle demanded as he handed the dead hen to Elia. "Come here you fat little hen," laughed before he lunged for it. Squawking, it dodged him, causing him to stumble forward and head but the wooden post. "Craizo," he swore as he rubbed his head. " All right little chicken, you're mine!"

"Having a bit of trouble, Gabrielle?" Elia teased as he watched the hen escape his grasp a few more times. "Hold the dead one, and let me show you how it we do it the Soderini household!"

Gabrielle laughed, "What? Show me how good you can fall on your face?" He teased back.

Elia had balanced himself on the supporting beam, opposite the side the target hen was on. So far she seemed oblivious, and thats how he had to keep it as he worked his way from beam to beam. Gabrielle marveled at his friends ability, and soon enough the squawk of the fat hen was heard amongst them. Elia presented himself much like an actor would after he'd presented a fantastic show, demanding applaud and praise.

"And that is how a Soderini does it."

Gabrielle wiped the sweat from his face. "Alright Soderini, stop bragging and let's get these chickens back to the house so we can leave already."

After they handed over the chickens, the rounded the side of the house for a couple of horses to make the trip on. It was about midmorning then, and the roadway was just starting to become crowded with people looking to start their day. They were cursed and yelled at as they plowed their horses through the crowd, but they didn't care. Their minds were set on the busy metropolis by the river, which is where most of the beautiful women spent their time. And today, there was one woman by the river bend that Elia's attention.

She was easily the most beautiful woman there, with her curled brown hair put up into a bun, and the water glistening off of her red, satin dress. It looked as if she was scent by God himself, and when she looked in his direction all time stopped. Her eyes were the deepest green he'd ever seen, and he loved them. Her delicate lips curved into a smile, and she blushed when he dismounted his horse and began walking her way.

"I'll catch up later," he called to Gabrielle.

"Good luck Elia," he laughed as he rode off.

"Can you help me?" She asked Elia as soon as he got over to her. "You see, I need to be home soon, and I can't reach my row boat." Her accent was so foreign, but it fit so beautifully with her that Elia couldn't help but stare. "I'm sorry, did I offend you? My Italian still needs a bit of work."

"No not at all, you're just so beautiful," he said as he kissed her hand. "My name is Elia, what's yours?" He waded into the water and pulled her boat over to the dock where she could step in it with out getting a single toe wet.

She giggled and blushed as she took her hand away from his, "My name is Anna. My family just moved here from France," she said as stepped in. " You're quite a gentlemen, Elia. Not many men would do this for a lady anymore."

He laughed and began to row in the direction that she pointed, marveling at her beauty as he did so. Gently, she allowed her hand to skim the top of the water, creating ripples that captured her image and his. He was gazing at her, and she knew it because she was gazing at him. He was so handsome, and kind, and so unlike any other man she'd met in Italy. She could really get used to him coming around.

"Is this it?" He asked as he stopped beside a staircase on the brighter side of Rome.

"Yes, but would it be to much trouble for you to walk me home?" She asked in an attempt to spend a little more time with him.

"Of course not," he smiled as he helped her onto dry land. "I'm always happy to help a beautiful woman," he said as he kissed her hand again.

She giggled, and cherished every moment she had left with him as she lead him through the back roads of Rome. The whole time she was with him though, she was watching for Silvestro, the man that met her first when she moved there. He was persistent in having her at his side, and at one point it got so annoying that she began to disguise herself. She felt she didn't have to hide with Elia by her side, though at times she could feel someone else was there with them.

Something clanged behind them, startling her into hold closely against him. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes, he whispered as he pushed her behind him. "Who's there? Show yourself!"

Time went by, and nothing else was heard or seen, yet they still felt glued to the spot. Then something moved in the shadows swiftly from side to side. Elia pushed Anna behind him, pinning her between him and a stone pillar. She clung tightly to him and tried to peer over his shoulder to see if anything was there.

"Anna, oh Anna," Silvestro said as he stepped out of the shadows. "Please move away from this bastardo and take me back."

"You had your chance, Silvestro. I'll never take you back after what you did to me," she scolded as she slid away from Elia. " And watch who you are calling a bastardo because the only one here is you!"

Silvestro laughed and slid his sly eyes over in Elia's direction. " Get out of here boy, leave the whore to me."

Fire lit behind Elia's eyes and lightening cracked in his chest before he felt his fist coil around Silvestro's tan overcoat. He had no idea what he was saying to him, but whatever it was seemed to work. He'd never been so angry in his entire life, and even after he'd let go his knuckles were still white as the clouds in the sky. Silvestro dropped to the ground with a heavy thud, first shocked, but then just as angry. He planted a punch to Elia's chin the first thing when he got up, but to his surprise, the boy slowly cocked his head around and looked back at him with a bloody mouth as if he weren't even hurt. Before he knew it, he was slammed to the ground, his mouth meeting the edge of Elia's boot when he hit. Then he was picked up before he could even react, and slung into an abandoned merchant stand, where he stayed unconsciously.

"Elia!" Anna shouted in shock as she looked at his mouth. " Elia, you're hurt."

"It's nothing," he laughed.

"Oh Elia yes it is, you're bleeding. Come, we must find a doctor!" She exclaimed as she grabbed his hand and tried to lead him.

He yanked her back to him, and dabbed the blood away with the end of his shirt. " I'm fine," he said as he kissed her. " Just fine."

She blushed, and kissed him again as it started to rain, " Oh Elia."

* * *

><p>Rain meant slow business for The Rosa in Flore, and slow business meant little money in the pockets of courtesans, which was something Cristina didn't like. She stared out of the window, wondering what her children were up to like she did every day. There wasn't a minute that went by that she didn't miss them. She knew Caprice was going to be married soon, and she'd kill to be there, but she was ban from the family now. Dante was probably getting big now with his sixth birthday rolling around in September. Then there was Elia, her first baby. She would love to see him again, she'd love to see all of them again, but she always regretted not telling him the truth about his real father. The only idea of him that she could give him was her diary, and hope that he could piece it together. That was something she regretted more than anything.<p>

"Don't feel so bad, Cristina," Giovanetta soothed as she rubbed her arms. "I know it's hard doing these things with men you don't know, but its not so bad when u get used to it."

Cristina half sighed, half laughed. " It's not that. I miss my children so bad," she said as she started to cry. " I would do _anything _to see them again. My little Dante, he was so young! Oh Giovanetta what if he doesn't remember me?" By this time she was wailing heavily, drawing Ghita's attention from across the hall.

The next thing she felt were two bodies surrounding her, and Ghita's soft voice humming a lullaby that mothers sing to their children. Star little star was something she sang to all of her children before they went to bed so a part of her would be with them when the monsters attacked. For some reason this calmed her down enough to stop crying and realize that she was always with them. They were never far away from and, and no matter what their father said, she'd always love them.

"I know how it feels to lose your children Cristina," she sighed as she felt a tear slip out of her eye. " I lost my little Alfonso shortly after he was born."

Cristina looked up at her with large, curious, and teary eyes. " What happened to him?"

"He was extremely deformed. It was so bad that his father and I had to keep him hidden because a priest said that the devil had his way with him," she said as she choked back the tears. "He got terribly ill, and we couldn't take him to the doctor... and then he died of his ailment."

"Craizo... Ghita I would have died with him. You're such a strong woman." She said as she thought about how hard it would be to lose a child if she could barely stand being away from her own.

"We all are, Cristina. Every one of us have a story to be told. See, you're never alone when you're with us."

She looked around to see every courtesan that was around her. They suddenly had new faces other than the ones people classified them as, and every one of them was beautiful. It was the first time she felt like she actually wasn't alone, and it felt great. Now that she had a new outline on the life of a courtesan, she felt as if she could do anything with it. Maybe she could even show her face to Ezio.

* * *

><p>By the time he reached Gabrielle's house it was pouring down rain and he was soaked, but he didn't care. Anna was an amazing woman, and well worth it. The only thing that concerned him was that he didn't know when he was going to see her again. He could sneak out tomorrow night and ride across Rome to see her but Dante would surely tell on him, and after tonight he was sure he was going to get enough to keep his ears ringing for a month.<p>

"About time!" Gabrielle greeted as he opened the door for him. "Any luck?"

Elia let out an elated sigh as a smile formed on his lips. "Like you'd never believe. Gabrielle, she's amazing!"

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Elia. Do you even know who she is?" Gabrielle questioned quite seriously, as if there was something behind her. He stopped to think for a moment, but nothing came to mind. All he saw in her was an amazingly beautiful foreign girl that he couldn't wait to see again, but he was also interested in what Gabrielle had to say as well. "She's a french general's daughter, Elia."

Elia's eyes went dark with denial. "No," he said over and over again. "She can't be... I mean she's... She's amazing Gabrielle, how can she be that trashes daughter?"

"I'm sorry," Gabrielle said as he put a hand on Elia's shoulder.

"It's alright, but I should be getting home before Father decides to horse whip me," he said with a fake laugh as he bade goodbye to his friend, Elma, and his mother.

The entire way home he found himself brooding on the fact that his new love was the daughter of the scum his home country was fighting against. Her father was the one that killed so many of his friends and the hometown that he'd come to love, but somehow he found a way to forgive her for that. It wasn't her fault that she was stuck with him as a father. Still, knowing that he loved someone that was so close to him hurt.

Thunder was cracking even harder by the time he got home and tied his horse to the stable. By the looks of the inside, Caprice's etiquette lessons were still going on, and going in through the front door was the only way to get in. He opened the door slowly, knowing that he looked like a dripping mess. Of course his father was sitting in the chair opposite of them all, eyeing him from top to bottom with and unsatisfied stare on his face. Elia returned the stare, and walked to his room on the first floor with an awkward silence following him. There, when the candle was lit, and the door was securely closed he got out his mother's diary and began to read where he left off.

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><p>AN: Well there's your look on Elia :) Hope you liked him lol. And don't be scared to ask questions if you're confused, I don't bite lol<p> 


	4. Like Father Like Son

an: We're going to explore Elia a bit more in the beginning of this chapter :3 Hope you like it. And I know I've been updating rapidly, and I'll try to update almost weekly :P. Don't worry, we're going to get back to EzioxCristina _soon, _like this chapter soon. In that last chapter I just wanted to show you a bit of what Elia was like, OK? I tried to make it exciting in ways, sorry if I failed epicly lol.

Oh and a heads up, blood and gore up ahead :P just thought you whom are squeamish may want to know.

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><p>The morning light began to peak through his eyelids as the sun rose in the sky, giving the mountains in the distance an even great mystic. The house had not yet begin to stir with it's daily life, other than Coco whom was just starting to clang pots and pans for today's breakfast. Elia opened his eyes to the world around him and explored a bit before he realized that he'd fallen asleep over his mother's diary, and it wasn't there now. His heart raced around as he turned over papers and drawers looking for it, and ultimately out of the window in the end. It was nowhere in sight and the worst thoughts came into his mind. If his father had gotten ahold of it, it would surely be burned.<p>

"Elia? Brother what are you looking for?" Caprice asked as she rubbed her eyes and opened his door.

"Mother's diary. Cazzo, Caprice help me look for it," he demanded after he slid out his desk.

She didn't want to tell him that she'd found it Dante's hands, about to hand it to Manfredo. Elia already looked as if he were going to have a heat attack, and knowing that his father had almost gotten his hands on it would kill him. She knew Elia and Manfredo never got along, and for whatever reason it was she'd never know. Sometimes, when her father came home drunk, she didn't like him either. One day she remembered he came home drunk, broke, and so angry because he'd lost all his money gambling, that he struck Elia. Ever since then things were different in the household.

"Elia," she whispered as she pulled on his shirt tail and showed him the diary. "Dante had it."

Elia let out an elated sigh and took the diary from her with glee. "Thank you Caprice. I thought father had gotten his hands on it."

She laughed shortly and went to sit on his bed. At times, her grandpa and brother were the only people she had to talk to, but she still didn't know how to tell Elia what was on her mind. It wasn't the fear that he may not understand, but the fact that she was scared that the same thing may happen to her as what happened to her mother. When she was banished she remembered how angry and violent her father had gotten. It was the first time she'd seen them yell at each other, and even though she couldn't hear anything they were saying, she knew it had something to do with Elia.

"Elia, can I tell you something and you promise not to tell Papa, or Grandpa," she asked quietly while her fingers fiddled with the lace of her nightgown.

"Of course," he yawned as he sat down beside her. " What is it?"

Nervously, she looked down at the floor and then at the door, making sure that her father wasn't there. "I don't want to marry Damien Borgia, he's mean to me. He beats me and calls me a pig, and puttana," she whined as her eyes became red and teary.

"Figlio di una cagna," Elia whispered as he clenched his fists and imagined what Caprice had been through with that man their father set her up with somehow. He knew there was something wrong with that man when he showed no emotion towards her what so ever when they met, and he wasn't going to let his baby sister go through hell with him.

"Elia!" She yelled when he darted across the room and threw open his window without haste. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going out to find mother, if father asks, tell him that you don't know where I went," he demanded while he jumped out of his window. "I don't care what he says anymore, I'm going to find our mother. She'll know what to do," he kissed his sister's cheek. "Don't worry Caprice, I'm not letting you marry that bastardo. Promise."

"Thank you, Elia," she said before tears of joy swarmed her face

He stormed his horse forward on the desolate roads of the early Rome morning, uncaring of who or what was in his path. Caprice was all he had left since his mother was forced out. She was his light now, and he loved her to much to allow her to marry someone that didn't even respect her. Damien was a Borgia though, he didn't know how he was going to get her out of this, but he was for sure his mother had to know something.

It was midday, and the city was bustling with new activity of buyers and sellers trying to strike deals just so they could make it by. Three times had he been assaulted by beggars for coin he didn't have, and three times he had to run as fast as he could through the back roads of Rome to escape them. By the time he was out of breath, and tired of searching, he'd ended up at the back of The Rosa in Flore. He'd scaled Rome from top to bottom, and no sign of her anywhere. The fear that she may have left Rome set in as he remounted his horse, and so did dashed hope of what he promised Caprice. To make matters worse, he heard the oh so familiar voice of Silvestro coming up swiftly behind him.

"There he is, boys!" Silvestro called with great integrity. "Hey, you on the horse! Stop!"

"Merda,"Elia whispered as he turned his horse around to face Silvestro and his gang of five. "Do you not have someone else to stalk you idiota?"

"Watch who you're calling an 'idiota' boy!" He laughed after one of the members of his gang pulled Elia off of his horse. "As you can see, you're greatly outnumbered!"

Wiping the dirt off of his pants, he faced the man who pulled him off. He came up to about Elia's shoulder and tried to toughen out his facial features to make him look older, but that still didn't hide the fear that was captivated in his eyes. Elia smirked at him, challenging him to touch him again. He could see that this boy was much younger than any other man in Silvestro's group, and was quite possibly his younger brother given the trademark tan over coat and curled hair. Pitiful, Silvestro was taking his little brother into a fight. Still, it was humorous enough to make him laugh though.

"What are you laughing at?" The younger boy taunted as he pushed Elia and puffed out his chest.

"You're brother's lack of balls!" He retorted with a laugh and a shove that sent the younger boy flying to the ground. He was right, the boy was young man with a voice that sounded as if he were only twelve.

"Keep your hands off of Abel!" Silvestro demanded as he drew his sword. "Thats it, Elia! You take _my_ woman, and disgrace me and my brother, you die!"

His laugh was stifled when the sound of blades sliding out of their sheaths echoed one another. It was a five against one situation and he didn't have a blade with him. Fear and adrenaline was pumping wildly through his blood as they converged on him in an attempt to back him into a corner against the Rosa in Flore. His mind was racing through things to improvise with; such as bricks and dust to through in their faces, but all was lost when he felt the larger member of the group grab him to hold him in place. Silvestro was the coward that hid in the back of the group while the others converged, and fast. His mind couldn't work fast enough to keep up with his heart, and every bit of fighting experience flooded to his mind. He knew he had a clear shot to the groin on the man that was holding him, and if he got his blade he may stand half a chance. As quickly and hard as he could, he got his arm free and jabbed the groin of his capturer, causing him to bend over enough where Elia could put him on the ground and grab his knife.

"Coward! Why don't you come fight me like a real man and stop hiding behind your friends!"

Silvestro's face went red, "Kill him! Don't leave a part of him unbloody!" He thundered with stuttered words.

Before he knew it, there were five blades coming at him to slice him to bits. He was positive this was the end for him, but there was no way he was running and hiding. If he was going to die, he was going to die with honor. Just as the first blade was going to crash down, the attacker stopped and soon his entire torso was engulfed in blood. Pierced from a blade from behind, held by a hooded assailant, he muttered his last words as he gripped the blade and spat up the remaining blood that was looking for ways to escape his dying body. Silvestro dropped his sword in pure fear, then turned tail on his gang, screaming for his life as he sprinted down the roads of Rome with his little brother hot on his tail. Taking the opportunity to save himself, the brute shoved Elia into the other two member that were left standing at the head of their dead friend.

"Assassino!" The first one cried as he shoved past his panicked friend to save his own life.

"Cazzo! Adamo, Drago wait for me!"

Elia watched all of them run away with their tails tucked between their legs, elated that a stranger was kind enough to help him. The only thing he was worried about was the dead, bleeding body lying at their feet. The guards would be there soon, and they both had to hide, but before this stranger wanted to run off, Elia wanted to thank him for saving his life. He had to be quick though.

"Thank you. If you hadn't come along those men would have gutted me," he thanked as he bowed to this hooded stranger.

Ezio took a long look at him, observing him, and trying to make things click together. The leader of the gang called him Elia, the name he head Manfredo tell Cesare last night at the Il Colosseo, but there had to be hundreds of Elias in Rome. He removed his hood and looked this boy straight in the eyes as he placed both hands firmly on his shoulders. Elia looked exactly like he did when he was younger, there was no doubt in his mind that he was an Auditore.

"Cazzo," Ezio whispered, realizing that he was looking at the son Cristina had hidden from him for years. "You, you're name is Elia, right?"

"That's right," he replied, eying him. "How did you know my name?"

Ezio shook his head, "You're mother is Cristina Soderini, isn't she?"

"How did you know who my mother is?" The shock in his voice was worse than before. Ezio knew he'd better come up with answers quickly before Elia changed his mind and he'd never see him again.

"Listen, I know we just met, I know you probably think I'm crazy, but we have to find your mother. She can explain everything, but first, I need you to trust me."

Elia looked at his hand, then at him, and finally concluded that he'd trust him. The question was if he wanted to or not, and he didn't, but this man apparently knew something he wanted to know. Then his mind shifted to his mother's diary. Every one of the random lines had something to do with his father, how he should follow in his footsteps, and that the truth about him shall be revealed soon. He just wondered if this hooded stranger had anything too do with him.

"I can't find her anywhere, I've scaled Rome from top to bottom and nothing," he said as he peered into the late afternoon sun.

"Then follow me," he signaled. "I'm going to ask Claudia if she's seen her," he said as he lead him around to the front of The Rosa in Flore. "You ready for this boy? You don't have any money on you do you?" He said with a laugh.

"No," Elia replied, not as amused as Ezio was.

When he opened the door, the overly perfumed smell of the inn flooded the door and overwhelmed Elia being that it was his first time being in the inn. Though somehow he managed to follow him , and ignore the constant come ons by attractive courtesans. He was with someone after all, or so he thought, and she was more beautiful than any other woman in that building. That's when he realized, he'd forgotten about Anna that entire day and missed her terribly. After everything with this man was cleared up he promised himself that he'd go to see her.

"Claudia, do you remember Cristina Vespucci?" Ezio asked loudly from across the hall.

At the top of the stairs, Cristina's ears peaked and she got the sudden instinct of wanting to hide, but she also wanted to see him so badly. Pulling herself together, she peeked down the staircase, and caught sight of her baby, her Elia, closely behind him. Her heart began to scream at her to go down there, throw her arms around him and shower him with kisses and tears, but her mind kept denying her. Never in a thousand years had she wanted her son to see her like this, or to think that he was born to a disgrace. She feared that he'd also found out about his real father, and could be angry at her for not telling him, so she watched as Ezio and Claudia spoke.

"There's a Cristina Soderini that works here," Claudia answered as realization dawned on her. "Oh Ezio... You don't think?"

"My mother? A courtesan?" Elia with a definite defiance lacing his tone. "All of you are crazy! I'm leaving!"

Cristina felt her heart swell as she watched her son begin to walk for the door, and soon she felt all dignity leave her. More than anything, she wanted to see him, and hug him like she used to be able to do, regardless if Ezio was there or not. She knew tears were flooding her face when she picked up her skirt just enough where she could sprint down the stairs and knock the flower basket out of two other courtesan's hands. She received odd looks as she went on, but cared not. All that mattered to her was getting to her son before he got out of the door.

"Elia, come back! Come back to your mama!" She cried as she caught his arm and wrapped him in a hug.

"Mother? Cazzo, they were telling the truth?"

She was deaf to the outside world, and enclosed with her arms around her son. There was no telling how much she underestimated missing him and his siblings, but knowing that he was there with Ezio snapped her back to reality. It wasn't the fact that he'd seen her like this now, but the fact that Elia may have just found out the truth. The truth was scary, that she'd found out.

"Cristina," Ezio gasped as he took her by the shoulders and made him face her. "Cristina... all these years, you've hidden the truth from me and our son... Why?"

"Oh Ezio, I could never find the words to tell you," she started as she dried tears away from her face and looked around nervously. "Please, can me, you, and Elia go out on the veranda?"

The followed her, unsure what emotion to take side with. She herself would have been angry under any normal circumstance if Ezio had brought Elia into the Rosa in Flore, but in this case over half of the mess was her fault. More than anything, she wanted to tell the both of them that she loved them, but right now didn't seem to be the right time to seek forgiveness from them. She feared that neither of them would ever be able to forgive her but understood if the didn't. Truth be told, she didn't know if she could forgive herself for doing this to either of them, especially Elia.

"Mother, please explain to me what is going on. This man," he said as he gestured towards Ezio, " Is my father?"

"Oh Elia... Ezio, I'm so sorry. I could never find the courage to tell either of you... I just," she pleaded before she was interrupted.

"Mother, it's been seventeen years I've had to live with that bastardo you call a husband. Admit it, you knew he never liked me because I wasn't his son. All those years of my youth I spent trying to please him so he may like me, wasted."

"Oh Elia, please..." She pleaded again with all of love and sorrow going out to him, but alas it was wasted like his youth.

"No, mother. I'm going to go see Anna. I'll be back tonight," he declared with anger and hurt as he slammed the door to them and raced out the door to his horse.

"Ezio?" She whispered in an attempt to find some comfort from the unbearable hurt placed upon her. "Please... I can explain everything."

"Cristina, why did you succumb to _this?"_ He asked as he stroked her sides, more so referring to the courtesan's dress that was barely covering her body.

She thought for a moment, and found herself almost unable to force the words from her mouth. It was harder to say why now that she had actually thought about it, but she had to tell Ezio something. She couldn't lie to him anymore. After seventeen years of the upmost secrecy it was time to come clean.

"I had nothing, and no one anymore. I... I didn't know where else to turn."

"You had me Cristina," he soothed as he stroked her neck and picked up the necklace he'd given her long ago. "You've always had me."

She took the trinket in her hands, and clutched it. He was right, she always had him to turn to even after all the awful things she said to him. Why she never remembered that she'd never know, but she did question herself and her thoughts now. Could Ezio still love her?

"I love you," she cried as she tucked herself into his chest, hoping he wouldn't force her away.

"And I love you," he said just before he kissed her as tenderly as he did all those years ago.

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><p>Confusion and anger were some of the most powerful emotions there were, and Elia could only hope that they'd died down by the time he reached Anna's house. He didn't want to burden her with his problems, even though she was now part of the reason he had one. If he hadn't met her, he wouldn't have nearly been killed by Silvestro and his gang. Then he would have never found his mother, and the truth about his real father. His father, the assassin. In his wildest dreams he'd never imagined that. There was an amazing feeling to know that his father was the scum taking taking down the Borgia, and not sucking up to them like Manfredo was. He could only be proud.<p>

"Anna," he called as he tapped on her window. "Anna, open up its me, Elia."

"Elia? What are you doing here?" She scorned after she helped him into her room. "Papa left shortly before you got here. Where you spying on me?" She asked with a giggle.

"Maybe I was, I wasn't," he kissed her tenderly. "Maybe I just needed to see you again my love."

"Oh Elia," she laughed as he took her onto her bed, kissing her and her neck the entire way. "I've missed you to," she whispered into his hair as she held him against her breasts in a mixture of flesh so rich only true lovers could share it.

He never knew he could fall in love so quickly or hard for woman. Things can develop so quickly and sweetly that before they knew it they were sharing the ever so binding dance of love. He loved her, there was no doubt in his mind about that, and she loved him as well. There was no other man in Rome that she'd rather be with; no other man for her in the entire world. She was absolutely sure of it as he loved her like no other man ever had.

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><p>An: Elia... so much like your father XP yet hot tempered like your mother at the same time.<p>

Well, if you're into this story, then check out my pole, :P it may shock you a lil bit.


	5. The little butterfly

An: Does anyone know what the crap is wrong with the poles? I've tried to vote in others but they wouldn't let me :O I think the same could be wrong with mine, correct me if I'm wrong.

And if you have questions about the italian phrases I'm using, read the author note at the bottom for a translation.

Oh and another thing before you read, were the Borgia french? O_O I know they had ties with the French army, buh I was never for sure if the actually were.

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><p>He awoke to the sound of a door slamming downstairs, and for a moment was too shocked to understand that he'd fallen asleep after making love to Anna in her bed. It was like making love to an angel, but unfortunately, he had to leave his angel so he would be able to see her again. He bent down and kissed her forehead before, unknowingly waking her up. Slipping on her night gown, she crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around him before he got out of the window. He wanted to turn around and hold her until time stood still, but with the chance of whomever was downstairs coming up and finding out their little secret, was too great.<p>

"I have too go, but I'll be back later my love," he whispered against her cheek as he slipped onto the window seal.

"When will I see you again?"

"Soon," he promised. "Ti amo."

"Ti amo troppo," she whispered before he completely disappeared from sight.

Throughout the entire time they were together she wished that she hadn't kept her silence about the reason her father had been away at the time. She felt terrible for doing that with him, but she loved him so much. There was no telling how badly he would have been hurt if she really told him that she was engaged to be married to her father's second in command now. It would kill him, and she couldn't bare that to happen. He told her that he loved her tonight, and she was supposed to be wed to someone else. She loved him so much, and didn't even know her fiance. Life was not on her side when it came love, that she realized when she thought she fell in love with Silvestro. What she doesn't know, is that there was a way out of all of it, and her name is death.

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><p>The night was so beautiful on from her room window, but nothing could clear the fog from her mind. She rubbed the tears from her red eyes as she gazed at the moon, begging it to bring her Elia back so she could beg him to forgive her. There had been times that would have been better for her to tell him that Ezio Auditore, the assassin, was the man that helped give him life, but no. She had to wait seventeen years to reveal the truth to her son, one of the men that she should be most truthful with. If she could take the years of toil in Elia's childhood, she would, but she always hoped that Manfredo could accept him, even though he wasn't his son. Now she can see that the last few years of their marriage had been a lie, especially after he got <em>it<em>, that dreaded piece of paper, from gambling it form a drunken, off duty Borgia captain.

"Cristina, open your window please," Ghita called from outside.

"Cazzo, Ghita?" She gasped as she swung the window pangs open, shocked that she was in full assassin uniform.

"Grazie... Guess that cat is out of the bag now," she laughed. "Say, would you mind keeping this between us. I don't want the girls to know about this."

"Of course not, but Ghita, there are... I mean I didn't know you were an assassin. What are you doing here as a courtesan?"

"Well," she started as she removed her hood and all the dressing down to her armor. "I fell in love, you should know that story Cristina. But not with any man or woman," she half sighed, half giggled. " I fell in love with the Rosa in Fiore. It and the girls have become the family that I lost. As you can see Cristina, we aren't that different," she sighed as she thought back to the past she longed for.

"I'm so sorry...but Ghita, what drove you to be an assassin?"

The older woman looked back at her, a soft smile uplifting her face and showing off the wisdom in her eyes. Cristina hadn't noticed until then that Ghita had become like a sister to her. She'd been there to comfort her, help he r, and now she was out on the streets of Rome, attempting to save everyone from Borgia. There were so many things that she should have thanked her for before and never did, and now she was feeling the bite of her stupidity. She decided to lay on her bed and stare at the ceiling to try to clear her mind and make sense of things. Only a year ago had she been cast out on the streets like a stray dog, left to either survive or bite the dust; thinking that nobody loved her anymore, but there was always someone that did. Now she could name the people that loved her most, and they were her babies and people that she didn't even know.

"I told you about my little Alfonso, right?"

"Sì."

Taking a deep breath, Ghita sat on the edge of the bed and stuffed her gear underneath it, "Alfonso didn't die of sickness. In fact, his death was far from anything natural. That... that pezzo di merda killed him," Ghita shuddered as she clenched her fists around the wooden bedpost. "Just because my baby was sick! He called him the devils spawn; a creature from hell... but he... he wasn't... he wasn't. He was just a poor, sick baby."

"Who did?" Cristina gasped with wide eyes, unsure of what else to say.

"That bastardo Donato, you know, Mr. Boots. He's set on making everything clean and holy, when he himself is the scum the devil sent to torment us," she said in a calmer shakier voice. "May I borrow a gown, mi ammico?"

"How long ago was that?" Cristina asked, tossing her friend a lace slip, still greatly puzzled about everything that she'd seen.

"About two or three years ago," she said with a sigh. "After that, Romano joined the Italian army and we haven't spoken since. You must know I'm terribly worried about him," she whispered as she put her head on Cristina's shoulder. "Oh, ho bisogno di riposo."

"Here, sleep mi ammico. Save your strength for tomarow."

"Grazie, I'm sorry to be such a burden on you Cristina, but I'm so tired," she yawned while pulling the wool blanket over her head. "Buona notte, Cristina."

"It's no problem; buona notte."

Cristina fell asleep that night with a million thoughts swarming her mind like angry bees. From the moment she'd seen Ghita she knew that there was something different about her; almost motherly and protective. Now she knew why. She was an assassin, one of the many brave men and women who have dedicated their lives to caring for and protecting others. Ghita, the courtesan, her friend, was a hero. Smiling, Cristina rolled over on her side and gave a quick glance at her with a whole new perspective; one of many new colors.

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><p>The dark side of Rome paled in comparison to the Soderini household's dark presence. Once a happy home, now was a motherless, heartless pit that rejected him. Elia had never been so apprehensive about going anywhere near a building in his entire life. He knew this would be the last time he'd have to step into the hell hole given that he could see his father pacing around the living room. There was no trace of fear in him now that he knew he had somewhere to stay with people that actually loved him, but the thought of having to leave Caprice and Dante behind with power hungry bastard made him cringe. He didn't know entirely what to do or how to react when he opened the door, so he did what he was best at; winging it.<p>

"Where have you been?" Manfredo scolded with a glare that could freeze a fire.

"Nowhere that concerns you, bastardo," Elia retorted as he slammed the door, waking the entire household.

Fury lit behind Manfredo's eyes, "_My _son will not talk to me like that, assure yourself that!" He boomed with Elia's shirt collar wrapped tightly in a white fist.

"Oh but I'm not your son. Remember that little detail?" Elia laughed with an angry, triumphant tone. "I'm the son of the assassin! Is that why you never accepted me?"

There was a deadly silence in the home. Something was brewing deeply inside its belly; almost as dark as the day their mother was cast out, but nothing could top that day. It was the first time Caprice had gotten so frightened that she ran into Elia's room in search of comfort from the yell of anger and pain. He has wanted to make him pay ever since, but only now had he learned how to bite.

"Out, I'm tired of raising and ungrateful boy that isn't even mine."

Caprice could no longer bear with her vow of silence in the shadows, and broke with a cry for her big brother before he stepped out of the door. If she lost him, then she knew she would lose all the joy she had to face the day with since her mother had been kicked out. She'd been in some what of a grieving process after she'd left. Knowing that all the household chores such as cooking and cleaning was no longer to be done with her mother, but the made, was utterly depressing. That is all the reason why she couldn't stand to watch Elia leave; it would destroy her.

"Please don't leave," she begged as she buried her face in her brother's chest.

"Off him, Caprice. Nothing can save him now."

She screamed as she was ripped off of him. Her tears, the source of anger and need for revenge, were the only things that kept him in that doorframe for another second. He had to leave though, for her safety and Dante's, but he wasn't going to let his promise to his sister fail. With a smile, he bent down her ear level and gave the perfect hit. '_She's at the Rosa in Fiore'. _It was then, with her beautiful smile lighting up the gloomy room, that he felt it safe enough to leave her there for tonight.

He was basically on a road to nowhere on a manhunt for an elusive father that hid in the shadiest part of Rome. Even in the morning light, everything still seemed as dim as it was still midnight. He was terrified on the inside. Being sleep deprived, starving, and weaponless in this country was very dangerous, but he feared he had no choice. The Rosa in Fiore was on the far part of Rome, and at this time in the morning, most likely closed. He only hoped Caprice had taken his hint and was planning to make her way there by at least high noon.

"This is dangerous part of Roma for you, my son. What brings you here?" Ezio called from the front door of what looked too be an old, decrepit inn.

"Manfredo kicked me out of the house," Elia replied with all the strength he had left. "Please father, I need to speak to you."

When he hit the ground, it was like all of his weight came tumbling down on him. He weighed much more than what he last remembered; either that, or he was just too weak to carry himself. Though somehow, he found it in him to carry himself to his father's side, shortly passing out moments after. It was the kind of black sleep that his body forced him into. He was in a place where he could think and sense, but couldn't find it in himself to open his eyes. The best description was more so like a twilight state.

"Come one boy, back to your senses," and unknown male voice called from beyond his subconscious with a few slaps to the face to accompany it.

"I'm up. Merda, what time is it?" He said as he tried to make out faces through burning eyes.

"Almost noon," Ezio answered from the beer barrels. "Son, you said you needed to speak to me. What is wrong?"

"Cazzo!" Elia yelled remembering that he'd totally forgotten about Caprice's situation yesterday. "Caprice, my sister, I think she's in trouble."

"How?" La Volpe questioned as he took a seat across from the youth. "And why should we care unless it involves the Borgia?"

Elia gave an aggravated sigh. "It does involve the Borgia. Her idiota father somehow talked Cesare into marrying our families."

Ezio found a sudden interest in how a commoner such as Manfredo convinced a high a power such as Cesare into taking interest in his family. He knew Cesare was power hungry, and wouldn't deal with anyone unless they had some source of money, or something that was of use to him. Whatever it was that Manfredo had, it was important. Power could be destructive, and when a young woman was involved, it was even more dire than it seemed. Something had to be done about it as soon as possible.

"Son, go get your sister and bring her back here, " he turned his attention to Le Volpe. "I'm going to get Cristina. I'll make sure we're not followed."

"Fine, fine. Everyone try to be back here by nightfall. I'll have my thieves ready and waiting if anything pops up."

"Grazie, La Volpe. Elia, you know the way here?"

"Si," he swung himself off of the table. "Should I bring my little brother too?"

"No, not if he is in no trouble. We don't need anymore attention drawn to us at the moment," La Volpe laughed as he gestured at Ezio.

They departed soon afterwards; Ezio heading towards the Rosa in Fiore, and Elia on the path to a hell hole. He'd much rather switch with his father, but knowing very well what consequences were waiting for him when he returned home was enough to distract him. Manfredo had a hold on the family, but Caprice was smarter than that. Elia knew she'd probably go pretty easy, but Dante would be a different story. He was young and impressionable, and Elia feared that this last year Manfredo had poisoned his young mind. Dante probably would not be worth the effort, but how his mother would love too see him. It almost made him sad to think that he could be taking that away from her, but that's life. Life was a lie; he knew that part, but sometimes that lie doesn't have to hurt as badly as it does. Cristina hadn't seen her babies in a year, and that had to hurt worse than any lie ever would. He should know.

Manfredo wasn't home when he got there, but the fear that he may have taken Caprice with him wherever he went smothered the elation. His cousin and grandfather, however, seemed to be waiting his on his arrival, almost as if they knew he was coming. Grandpa Vespucci, or so Elia called him, seemed to be in a state of shock and grief that melted away when he saw Elia. For the first time since his mother had been booted from the household, his grandfather hugged him.

"He's out of control, Elia... Cazzo, I should have never taken that contract with Cesare," Amerigo declared with a state of shock that seemed to be out of character for him.

Elia took his grandfather at arms length, "Where is Caprice?"

Amerigo glanced at the ceiling, then the door, and finally back at Elia, "Caprice is bathing at the moment. Elia you must save her, we cannot let the Borgia's take anymore power over Rome than they already have, and if Caprice marries Damien, then I feel this entire world may be in trouble."

"Non capisco," Elia answered as he stood back and gave his grandfather worried stare. "I was going to save her from marrying and abusive Bastardo; cousin, what are you talking about? How would the world be in danger?"

Amerigo sighed, "Listen boy, I don't have enough time to explain all of the details. Go get Caprice, pack her things, and take her to the safest place there is possible."

"But cousin!

"Go! Now!" His grandfather erupted when a horse whinnied outside. "I'll pack her bags boy, just go get her."

He raced upstairs and pounded on the bathroom door. The moments it took for her to open seemed like an eternity when Manfredo's voice welcomed itself among the atmosphere. He seemed cheery and content with the days catch of carp and catfish; almost as if his mother was still there to gut and cook the fish. With Dante so young, he doubted he remembered the days she would dance around the kitchen, singing melodies to him and Caprice while their father worked outside. This was the time before the Borgia. A simpler, more peaceful time when he and Manfredo got along better than they do now. Of course, though, the Borgia ruined everything.

"Elia? I thought Papa threw you out! I'm so glad you came back," she cried as she wrapped her arms around him, only to find her self being lead to her bedroom where her grandfather was busy packing her clothes and what-nots into a small sack. "What in the world is going on?"

"Tell me Caprice, do you love Damien Borgia?"

She stared at him, wide eyed, unsure of what to say. "No, I'll never love that... that idiota. Why do you even ask such a thing?"

"Go with your brother Caprice, don't ask questions," her grandfather demanded as he tied the satchel around the waist of her dress and kissed her forehead. "Ti amo mia belle figlia grande,"

"Come on Caprice, we don't have much time. I'm supposed to meet father and mother before nightfall," he hurried from the window seal. "Sneak out the backdoor and don't let Manfredo see you," and with that, he was gone.

"Mother? I'll get to see my mother?" She said softly and sweetly with her curious eyes fixated on her grandfather.

"I miss her too, but la mia farfalla, you must go to her. I will stay here and distract your father. Don't worry, everything will be alright."

She took his word for it, and with the help of him and her cousin, slipped out of the backdoor to meet her brother. It was terrifying to have to leave her household, maybe for good, but she didn't dare question them if it meant getting out of marrying a Borgia's bastard. She mounted a horse and rode off behind her brother, trying not to look back as she did so. Her family was awaiting her somewhere; she knew that part, but leaving all she had behind was difficult. Elia thought the world of her, and she also knew he'd never do anything that would hurt her.

"Brother, where are we going?" She called as she caught up to him. "Where is our mama?"

"She'll be there Caprice, don't worry. I'm taking you to an old inn where my mama and papa are going to be." She observed her surroundings a bit, and concluded that wherever they were going, not many people would be there. It was on a desolate highway; almost like the kind highway men liked to travel on. She stuck close to him just in case, and thanked herself that she decided not to wear anything expensive looking. "How much longer do we like to being there?"

"I'd say five more minutes maybe. I can see the inn from where I am."

"Is mother there?" She asked, hopefully lost in excitement.

"I don't know. She should be, father went to fetch her about the same time I went to get you."

"I miss her," she sighed as she stared down at her horse's silver mane.

Elia sighed and helped her off of her horse, "I know, everyone at home does. Now come, lets go see her." She contained her energy long enough for Elia to lead her into the conference room where he'd passed out earlier. La Volpe was there to greet them, along with Ezio and Cristina, whom was unaware of her daughter's arrival until now.

"Mama!" Caprice yelled as she lunged herself into her mother's arms and inhaled the sweet rose scent that she'd missed for so long.

"Il mio bambino, il mio bambino! Mi sei mancata tanto la mia piccola farfalla!"

She could have cried as she held herself in her mother's chest, and felt her warm skin welcoming her into a hug. Warm tears were falling onto her hair as they stood there longer, only being pulled apart for the time that Cristina was planting warm kisses all over Caprice and Elia's face. It was a reunion she'd been dying for ever since she'd been kicked out last year, and thanks to her wonderful son, and lover, she had it. Though for some reason, she had the gut feeling that a reunion wasn't what Ezio had brought her there for.

"I hate to ruin a nice reunion, but I believe we have business to attend to concerning your daughter," La Volpe interrupted.

"What is wrong? What has she done?" Cristina asked, wide eyed and terrified as she clutched her daughter in her arms.

"It is not her, madre, it is the bastardo you married," Elia soothed as he gripped his mother's shoulders. "Don't you remember?

"Cazzo, he's not still going through with that, is he?"

Elia nodded, confirming her worst fears. "The whole reason he threw you out."

"Merda... I don't know what to say to him anymore. He used to be so kind and gentle, but now... I don't even know what to do," she sighed as she sat down beside Ezio and stretched out her arms. "Caprice, come to Mama, I promise nothing bad is going to happen to you."

She did so, and wrapped herself in her mother's warmth. It brought back memories of how she would lie in bed with her and tell bedtime stories of her youth until she fell asleep. Sometimes she would wake up and she would still be there, sleeping soundly next to her with baby Dante snuggled between them. Those were the nights that Manfredo was working late and hard to bring home pay. The nights way before she broke his streak and gambled a deadly piece of paper that would forever change their lives.

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><p>An: <em><strong>Italian phrases and translations:<strong>_

**_Ti ammo- I love you_**

**_Ti ammo troppo-I love you to_**

**_Cazzo-fuck_**

**_Grazie- Thank you_**

**_Merda-shit_**

**_Idiota-idiot_**

**_Bastardo-bastard_**

**_Si-yes_**

**_Mi Ammico- my friend_**

**_Oh, ho bisogno di riposo- Oh, I'm so tired_**

**_buonanotte-goodnight_**

**_Ti amo mia belle figlia grande- I love you my beautiful grand daughter_**

**_la mia farfalla- My little butterfly_**

**_Madre-mother_**

**_Il mio bambino, il mio bambino! Mi sei mancata tanto la mia piccola farfalla!- My baby, my baby! I've missed you so much my little butterfly!_**

Ahahahaha! I'm fucking evil! X3 Pulled a cliff hanger on you! Naninanibooboo lol

See this, this is what A.D.D+sugar+sleep deprivation does to you... yeah... it's scary. :P

But no, seriously, I was gonna try to do that whole update on one every week deal... but thats probably not gonna happen. I have the attention span of a 5 year old in a class room full of monkeys.

I still likes writing though :p OH AND MY MIND=BLOWN!

I JUST FOUND OUT THAT AMERIGO VESPUCCI WAS CRISTINA'S COUSIN... not her father -_- So now I gotsa incorporate another character that I know nothing about in here... great...Cristina's dad... anyone know his name? Or am i gonna have to make up one here?

R&R OR NO COOKIE FOR YOU! XD


	6. Stopping the cycle

An: -.- ok the grammar check is officially stupid. It wants to change my 'your' to 'you're' Fanfiction, fic it!

Head ups reminder... Anna is french, thus she speaks it. Just wanted to remind every one of that.

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><p>It seemed like ages that she waited. The night had been so long without him, and the morning sun no longer had the beautiful vibrant feel it had before. Now that dusk had come, she doubted she'd ever see him again. She'd spent the entire day in her room; laying on the bed that they'd made love in, and stroking his pillow. How she wished she could marry him instead of a man her father's age that she barely knew. The thought scared her. She wanted someone like Elia, nothing else. Sighing, she wrapped the pillow in her arms and rolled over on her side before she heard someone knock at the door.<p>

"Anna, ma petite fille, are you in there?" Called her father from the other side of the maple barrier.

"Yes, Papa, you may come in," she answered as she put down the pillow and quickly closed the shades.

"Chérie," what is wrong? You've been in your room all day," he cooed before he put a hand on her shoulder and tried to sort through explanations. "Do you miss your mama, is that it?"

"Yes," she half way lied. "I'm so scared Papa."

"Ah, ma chérie, she will be fine. Your mother is strong, she'll overcome this pneumonia and will be at your wedding proudly watching you," he reassured as he took her by both shoulders and stood behind her. She gave a half smile as she attempted to cover up the tears of her thoughts that were coming through. Truth is, she missed her mother so badly and knew her father was just trying to cover up what was really going to happen. She knew that the death rate for pneumonia was high, and her mother at the age she was with a new born child, wasn't exactly the best formula for survival. The probabilities were grim. " She wanted me to give you something in the last letter she sent," he said as he pulled out a small, red box wrapped in white lace from behind his back and passed it to her. "It was hers when we were married. She wants you to wear them at your wedding."

Gently, she pulled the white lace out of the knot that her mother's frail hands had tied, and tugged out a pair of off-white gloves that had outlines of gold roses stitched into the palms. Memories flooded her mind immediately. Her mother never took the off, but she had promised on her death bed that she would pass them on to her youngest daughter; Anna. She slipped them on, gazing at the trail of gold that wrapped around her ring finger and all the way up to her elbow. Her mother was dying, and she wanted her to have them so she could carry on the memory, she just knew it. Dare she cry, alerting her father that she knew he was lying to her, or should she be strong for her mother's sake?

"They're beautiful," she whispered as she gazed at them in the mirror at them. "Thank you Papa," she sighed while she hugged him tightly. "Tell Mama that I love and miss her, beaucoup."

"I will, but you need to sleep. We must meet your fiancé for brunch tomorrow to discuss wedding plans," he announced as he closed her door behind him. "Bonne nuit, Anna."

It was only a few moments after he closed the door, that she heard the curtains to her window sway open, and Elia pass through them. He appeared absolutely shattered, and she feared the worst. "You... are to be married?" He asked lowly; trying to stay as calm as possible. "Why did you not tell me this?"

She shook her head, her mouth twitching at the corners. "Elia... Please, you must understand. I..."

"I understand perfectly, my love," he stated as he took her hand and gazed at the shoulder length gloves. The hurt was making a gaping hole in his throat, causing speech to be nearly impossible. "If you are to be married, then I shouldn't see you anymore," he choked as he kissed her forehead tenderly, leaving a small trail leading to her lips. "Goodbye, my love. I wish you much happiness with your new husband."

With that he left her with a scream of pain choking her on her bed. It happened so fast. She lost the love her life; the man that she lost her virginity to. The despair that was rapidly swelling in her chest just wouldn't come out fast enough. The pain that she felt was almost dream like. Like she lost Elia in a dream, not in real life. She could cry and beg all she wanted at the window for him, but he just wouldn't come back. The tears burned so bad as they swept across her face that she was sure they were burning holes in her night gown, but it didn't matter. Nothing was going to bring him back.

His fist struck the chimney brick, radiating a rattle in the shaft, and his bones. The hurt in his heart was overpowering the stinging pain of his bleeding knuckles. How could she do that to him? She built him up so high, then pushed him off. As a man, he wasn't supposed to cry, but the undying want to yell was overcoming him as he listened to her cry for him. He would give everything to go back to her, but if she was to be married, then he shouldn't see her anymore. The trouble would arouse sooner or later if the woman was having an affair, and he didn't want to do that to her. He loved her. He loved her more than any woman he'd ever met, and no matter who she married, he would still love her.

"What troubles you my son?" Ezio asked from the darkness of the shadows.

"It is my lover. She is going to marry another man," he responded with despair killing his words as the came out. "I don't know what to do father. She was the first woman I ever loved," he stated again as his father took a seat beside him. In the background he could still hear her wails of pain echoing throughout Rome's deep crevices, only to be lost in the dark night sky. "You wouldn't believe how badly I wish to comfort her right now."

"I know your pain. When your mother married that idiota I too was devastated, but I never stopped loving her."

"And I can never stop loving her either, Father... how did you cope with it? I feel like my heart is going to explode as it is."

Sighing, Ezio took a long look into the moon. The pain in his son's soul was reflecting in him as that day did. "I moved on. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but it was for the best. I knew it would be easier on her if I had left her to live her life... Manfredo has proved me wrong on that though."

"Cazzo... I guess thats all I can do. Hopefully Anna can have a better relationship with her husband than Mother did."

"Let us hope," Ezio answered just as her wailing had died down. "Sounds like she really loved you son."

"Si... And I loved her. I feel so terrible for not being there. Her mother has pneumonia as well. I feel as if I should be there for her," he groaned as he placed his head in the palm of her hands, unsure of what else to do.

"The wounds will heal, trust me. As for now though, your mother has requested I bring you back so we can dine together as a family."

Sighing, he slinked up, "Lead the way," he answered before he took one last look at her bedroom window. _'Let sleep heal you my love. Don't let me get in the way of your happiness,'_ he thought before he leapt into the night behind his father.

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><p>It was enchanting to hear the laughs and giggles of mother and daughter as the splashed each other with with water over the kitchen sink once again; the noises that he wanted to capture and use to drown out the terrible cries that she had made for him. He could only feel that he'd made a huge mistake leaving her to marry him, but he couldn't fathom her ever hating him. Dear Anna DePaul, hating him? Nonsense. Though at the moment, he hated himself for leaving her to wallow in her misery like that. He reaped her virginity, and now can never see her again.<p>

"Ezio, what is wrong with Elia?" Cristina asked Ezio after everyone had retired for the night. They'd be sharing a room that night, and she couldn't be happier to be able to hold him the way she did years ago, but the way her son was acting at dinner was getting at her.

"His lover," he started before he dressed down to simple cotton pants and socks and slid into bed with her. "She's set to marry another man," he soothed as he leaned down, kissed her, and ran his hand down the back of her silk gown. "We of all people should know how that feels."

"To have someone you love so dearly to be taken by another... And myself, having to live knowing I would never love Manfredo like I do you," she returned as she ran her fingertips along his chest, causing a long, silent, groan to escape his throat. She smiled against his neck and planed kisses there and along his collar bone, not caring if she was legally still married.

"The hardest years of my life," he whispered against her forehead while he cupped her shoulder.

"Strange how history repeats itself."

"Si," he groaned as he took his position on her. "Ti amo così tanto, Cristina."

"Ti amo di, Ezio," she sighed underneath him as he took his hand in hers and nuzzled his face in her neck in a mixture of breath and flesh so sweet and tender only true lovers could share it.

"Will you please allow the pain, the cycle to end here? So we may never be apart?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, breathlessly as she leaned up, forcing them into a sitting position, but still huddled in his chest.

"I want you at my side, always, forever mine... Cristina... I want you to be my wife."

She stared at him, wide eyed, a smile twitching at her lips, "Ezio, yes. A thousand times, yes, but how? I'm still legally married to Manfredo."

"Lets just say, someone owes me a favor," he cooed again as he brought her chin to his. That night he would make her feel more loved than any man ever could.

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><p>...<em>Earlier that night...<em>

_"_Elia?" Caprice asked quietly as she peeked into his bedroom. She saw him lying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as if nothing were on his mind at all. Her brother did indeed seem like a corpse.

"What is it?"

Quietly, she slipped into his room with her night gown floating like a ghost made of silk behind her. She was truly beautiful like their mother, and it was a shame that she couldn't share her face with the world for a while. It almost reminded him of Anna, and how delicately her features shown in the quant candle light. How, when he kissed her, the corners of her mouth would twitch to fit his perfectly. They were made for each other, but no longer could he see her. Why did he get the feeling he'd made some terrible mistake by leaving her behind?

"Remember when we moved to Rome, and you met Gabrielle?"

He cocked an eyebrow in suspicion. "Si, why?"

"Well...," she said as she fumbled awkwardly with the fabric of her gown, refusing to look him in the eye.

Realization kicked in for him, and he stared at her, mouth slightly agape, brows furrowed more in confusion than in anger. "You love him?"

"No, no," she dispelled quickly. "Not love... We just like each other," she explained as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He was giving off a nervous, shaken feel just like he had at supper. Being the curious little sister that she was, she sat across from him and made him look her in the eyes. There was nothing less but excruciating pain in them. "Elia, what is the matter?"

He shook his head, "A woman, sorellina. Do not worry yourself with it, I'm going to go see Gabrielle tomarow," he sighed with a smirk. "Do you want to come with me?"

Caprice's face lit up, and butterflies danced around in her stomach. "Yes I do, I very much do! Oh please, Elia? I promise I'll behave."

"Cazzo, Caprice, calm down. Of course you can come," he laughed, deeply embarrassing her by reminding her of the little crush she had on his best fried, and how foolishly childish she acted when his name was mentioned.

"I'm going to bed now," she almost squealed. "Good night, Elia!"

"Good night, Caprice," he laughed again as he watched her almost dance out of his room and down the hall to hers. At least she was happy, and wasn't that all that mattered? Sure, he may have lost the love of his life, but that doesn't mean that he should keep them from developing a love. What big brother, and best friend would he be if he sat there prevented it from ever happening? Love came and went for him, but he couldn't have be happier if it came and stayed for her.

She'd forgotten what she wanted to ask him while she was in there. Her thoughts had been smothered with feminine, almost unlady like thoughts of her brother's best friend. Gabrielle Russo, a common Italian boy like her brother, had captured her heart despite an age difference of a measly four years. She'd dreamed about kissing him before, but her grandfather had always assured her that kissing out of wedlock was a sin, and thinking about it made a young lady unclean, but as her pillows crashed around her face she couldn't help but wonder what it was like to actually be in love. How she wanted to know what it felt like to be kissed, and held in a mans embrace. An open window allowed her gaze to the mountain side of Rome where he lived beyond the woods, past her house. She pondered what he was doing right now, if he was thinking of her, even if he was looking up at the same moon as she was. There was some sort of strange connection with him at the moment. The closeness was overwhelming her, but not in a way that made her want to weep. Butterflies were dancing wildly in her stomach in their search for him, and their want to see him so badly that they kept her up wondering about the what ifs until she could no longer hold her eyes open.

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><p>an: Well tell me what you think? Is Anna gonna move on? Is Elia going to hate his best friend when he actually comes back to his senses? Do Ezio and Cristina actually get married?<p>

Read, review, and I shall give you another chapter XP


	7. When all hell breaks loose

_Author note_: I've taken some time off from my fan-fiction stories so I could focus on my stories outside of . Sadly I've gotten nowhere thanks to that little worm we call writers block. Reviews are alway greatly appreciated. They seem to help me come out of it actually :) So take the hint people lol. If you have any questions feel free to ask. I know that there are a few confusing things in this story, and most of them may regard the timeline and what not, but please use your imagination. The way I thought of it was around the end of the Borgia's control over Rome, with a few of my own characters thrown in there to make things difficult and prolonged for the assassins. So please bare with me and keep reading.

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><p>She was pale when morning came. The difficulties of breathing through her nose, frustrating and upsetting. Her forehead was as hot as her mother's cooking skillet and her chest was congested so terribly that even her coughs sounded strangled. If her mother didn't know any better, she'd say she had nothing more than a mere cold. Still, she insisted that she'd see a doctor considering the left over money she had from the Rosa in Fiore, and thanks to aid from Ghita, whom of which had made her way there to visit before she left out for Paris that week, it was possible. In raising two children of her own before the death of her last, and with her father being a doctor himself, everything seemed to be great for the young girl. She'd taken a liking to Ghita, gotten to spend half the day in bed with no chores to do, and around dinner time, her mother had brought her soup and began teaching her how to read. However, she wanted so badly to see Gabrielle, and Elia seemed in such a hurry to go visit him that morning. She plead to go with him, but the rain and falling temperature bid her not as well. She knew it was almost November, and less that three more weeks until her fourteenth birthday. It would be a shame to be ill then.<p>

"Caprice, darling how are you feeling?" Ghita asked as she smoothly ran her hand across Caprice's forehead, feeling that her fever was near gone. Caprice glanced up at her, noting that her hair was let down in cascading curls around her neck and shoulders, and her dress was a faded pink color that cut across her shoulders, exposing the tops of her breasts in a more so beautiful form, other than the one of a prostitute that she was used to seeing her in.

"I'm fine," she coughed. "Where is mother?"

"She and Ezio went out to look for a home in Rome shortly after you fell asleep," she explained as she took up an empty bowl and glass, and began heading for the door again. Before she left though, she turned back and gave a smile to the young girl. Caprice reminded her so much of her daughter. She only wished she could see her again. "Your mother cares the world for you Caprice, you do know that right?"

"Of course I do." She paused. "Mama and I have never fought." She paused again, this time, taking a nice long look into the window. "I can... I can tell her everything."

Sensing something was wrong with her, Ghita sat down the silverware and bowl, and asked," Does something trouble you? You can tell me, I wont tell your mother unless you want me to."

"Well," Caprice started, refusing to look Ghita in the eyes at first. "There is this... boy."

Ghita almost squealed as she laughed, "Young love, I absolutely love it. Tell me all about this boy."

Caprice giggled, "Well, he's blonde... No wait, his hair is the color of the son; golden, and beautiful. He has the brilliantly green eyes, and he is taller than even Elia."

"Oh my, he sounds like a handsome young man," Ghita amused as she helped Caprice. "What is his name?"

"Gabrielle Russo," Caprice sighed nonchalantly as she fantasized about her crush, then in realizing the message that she had wrongfully given, she corrected herself and began acting more so like a civilized woman again, and not a love struck child. "But we are not in love you see. I just seem to fancy him."

Ghita raised an eyebrow, "There is no need to be ashamed in being in love, Caprice. Its a pure feeling, and more valuable than anything you could ever own." Before she left, she stopped and took one more look back at the young girl just to see how truly confused she was. She was young, beautiful, and full of life. Ghita would hate to see all of that go to waste. "Caprice, if you love that boy, don't let it slip through your fingers. It just may be the worst mistake you'll ever make." She left with that said, and in her wake, was her mother.

Caprice tensed up, her eyes widening and her fingers tightening around the frills of the wool blanket. Her mother's warm smile melted away all tension that had built in her in fear that she was in trouble for having a harmless crush. She wanted to be able to tell her anything and everything she could, but some things were just to hard to speak about. Boys were always a hard subject, and given Gabrielle's age, it was even harder now. She knew Elia wouldn't take it well if she confessed to him about it, but her plans didn't include that. It was more-so an admire from afar deal with the both of them, in fear of upsetting Elia, who seemed to be having enough problems of his own. Gently, her mother soothed her hand over her forehead, and frowned almost as if she knew what was on her mind.

"I love you so much, la mia fafella. This year I went without seeing you almost killed me."

"I love you too, Mama, Dante missed you as well. Coco wasn't the same as you."

Cristina bent down and kissed her daughters warm forehead, almost scared when she sensed her fever coming back. "Are you feeling all right? Your forehead is warm."

Caprice nodded, and cleared her throat. She was starting to feel under the weather again, but she didn't want to spend another day in bed. Her legs were aching for the touch of soft grass under her feet. How she wanted to feel the sun on her face, the rain beating on her dress. She would give anything to see his face at the end of the bed; as if it were him that was holding her hand, but her mother would do just as good. She loved them both.

"How is she doing?" Ezio asked through the doorway, his white hood lighting up the room.

"She's got another fever. Ezio, I fear we may not be able to make the move today or tomorrow as we had planned."

"Move?" She asked, her curiosity peaking at its height. "Where are we moving?"

"It's _a_ small apartment near Basilica di San Pietro. Basic for a family about our size, maybe a little larger, and a cheap enough rent. The Borgia will never suspect a thing," Ezio answered as he took Cristina's waist in his hands and kissed her temples. She snugged herself into his chest, remembering the promise they'd made last night, and the choice she was going to have to make soon. "They're gaining intelligence and I have no clue how."

"A spy maybe?" Cristina proposed.

"Most likely," La Volpe agreed while he stepped into the door. "I'm sorry, I could not help but hear the conversation as I passed by."

"La Volpe, any ideas on who the traitor is?"

He eyed Ezio as if he knew for a fact who it was. "You should know exactly who I think the figlio di puttana is, Ezio."

Ezio sighed, "We cannot just go around assuming. We are a brotherhood, and must stick together through these times. There is no room for suspicion."

"Do as you wish then, but I shall make sure that our hard work does not go to waste if you are wrong. Assure yourself that Ezio." La Volpe abhorred before he bade a due, and left, only to be replaced by Elia.

"Cazzo, what is going on here?" He asked, astonished when he was shoved out of the way by La Volpe. If he didn't have enough problems to begin with, now he had to deal with the afflictions of his family as well.

"Elia, we have to go _now,_ the followed us," Gabrielle rushed as he tugged on his friends sleeve. Elia turned to him and swatted his hand off of him. He knew they were in a rush, but with Caprice's ill condition, they were hardly in the place to.

"Who followed you?"

"Manfredo and the Borgia search party," he turned his gaze to Caprice. "They are searching for her," he urged as he then turned his face to his mother. "He killed Grandpa Vespucci, and now they're going to kill you as well, Mother. We _have _to get out of here."

They were interrupted by the window on the left wall being shattered by a bullet. One of the glass shards lodged itself in Cristina, soon making her golden dress, crimson at the shoulder. She collapsed into Ezio, and was supported by Elia as she tried to regain her composure over the shock and pain. Thankful that it didn't land anywhere critical, Ezio ushered her to Ghita who had been brought into the room by the loud crash, and ordered that she get her and Caprice to the carriage out back, where then they'd be taken somewhere safer. Like well organized ants, everyone fell into place: Ezio, out the window to fend off and distract the mob, Ghita, assisting Cristina in dislodging the glass shard, and gathering Caprice out the door, and Elia and Gabrielle out to help Ezio. Then, all hell broke loose.

"Give me my daughter you... you, bastardo!" Manfredo demanded upon his horse. "I want my Caprice back!"

"You don't deserve her!" Elia answered as if provoked. He didn't care how desperate he sounded, Caprice could never go back to him or the hell he made as a home for her. "You are willing to sell your own daughter for power!"

"Lies! I love my daughter. I would give everything up if I could just have her home again," he yelled back with what almost resembled tears in his eyes. Then, just as all seemed to calm, and lessen in violence, the carriage containing Caprice, her mother, and Ghita broke from the stable, breaking the ties to all sanity. "Donato, Diego, Abele, after that carriage! Everyone else, kill them!"

"Gabrielle, take this," Elia demanded as he tossed him a spare stiletto with a newly sharpened end. He knew he could possibly die during this, but he was prepared to do whatever it took to protect his dear Caprice from harm. Even if he had to give his life to save hers from a life of misery.

Inside the carriage, Cristina held on tightly to her daughter as the driver sped over the dirt road going to who-knows-where. They could hear gunshots from the outside whizzing past the thin carpeting. It was loud, like thunder, and had the same, if not worse, intimidating effect on them. Caprice, with her hands held tightly over her ears, wedged herself between the steel and her mother as if that was all she needed to protect her. Ghita, however, remained calm and ahead of the situation. Calmly, she pulled out a long rifle from a secret compartment and loaded it when seven to ten rounds, then, she pulled up her sleeves to reveal her hidden blades, and vambraces. She was preparing herself for battle, and was determined for everyone to get to safety before some Borgia scum got to them.

"Cristina, be prepared to take the reins in case anything happens, and Caprice, you be prepared to run for your life," he demanded as he called for the driver to halt the carriage.

"Ghita, what the hell are you doing?" Cristina demanded to know as she leapt from the carriage, leaving them to fend for themselves.

"Mamma, what is going to happen to ?" Caprice panicked, the trepidation in her young voice building up.

"She's going to be fine," she reassured as she took her daughters face in her hands and looked her deep in the eyes. "Everyone is going to be fine, sweetheart. Your brother, Ezio, Ghita, and Gabrielle are going to be fine," she soothed with her daughter tucked snug into her breasts, trying to assure herself that they were going to be absolutely fine, but how could she when herself was scared to death.

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><p>An: Cliffhanger because I can :) Review if you wanna know what happens!<p> 


	8. Face to Face

She was circled by a mass of five Borgia men by the time the carriage was well over the hill top and out of sight. The hooves of horses stomped excitingly around her, kicking up dust that masked the look of trepidation in her eyes. One man called out, and the others followed his order, and one by one stuck their swords out at her. By first glance, Ghita looked overwhelmed, but two years with the assassins had taught her better than that. With a quick movement she tore one man off of his horse, stolen his sword and thrust it into his chest cavity. When he stopped squirming, she took the white mare and assaulted her attackers on it with a smile. She had definitely surprised the lot of them.

"Whats wrong boys? Shocked an old woman can move like that?" She laughed in their faces as she ran into another one.

"Merda! She's an assassin!" One yelled, followed by the thunderous beating of his horse's shoe against the stone pathway. "Get her men! Captain Soderini will be pleased with the capture, and torture of an assassin!"

Ghita gave a mocking laugh, "Come at me then, bastardo, I'll make it quick and painless for all of you."

They did, and she was always one to hold up to her promises. The first man didn't make it quite past her shoulder before his sight was redirected with the palm of her hand and a blade slid into his throat. He fell to the ground with a gargle, and the youngest man watched with terror. Almost immediately he fled, leaving her and friends in his dust. The man she had just killed was his older, superior brother. He knew he had no chance against that woman or any other assassin out there, and only wished his friends could see it as well. No matter, he would let them figure it out for themselves while he fled with her haunting laughter chasing him.

"Desi! Get back here you coward!" Another man called, unknowingly leaving himself open to attack. The last thing the poor man heard was a gunshot from a rifle before he himself hit the ground. Now, there was just one left; the one with a black hood.

"Ah, clever assassino. You learn well... for a whore." He said with deliberate, smiling words. Ghita froze under the icy tone the voice carried.

_How could he gain such a position with the Borgia?_

She stuttered with aggression,"You... Ezio ran you out, you figlio di puttana!"

"Save your words, you'll be joining your baby soon enough," he answered with an unnatural sense of calmness that ran an icy hand up her back.

Hot tears were beginning to rush down her face, causing her words to be cracked and malformed, "You bastardo! You killed him out of cold blood... He... He was just a poor innocent baby! You watched me give birth to him, and... you had to kill him!"

"He was the child of the devil! Are you to blind to see that? You worshiped Satan while you were pregnant with him and we all know it," he countered as he removed his hood, revealing the scarred face of an old man.

"I did no such thing you liar," she growled as she caught sight of the scar on his cheek, and smirked. "I can see you still bare remembrance of that day... Romano and Ezio not pound it into your head good enough, hm?"

Donato's face went dark, " I would watch what you say, puttana," he growled as he pulled a rifle like hers on her. She followed his example.

They sat there, facing each other on horseback with the need to pull the trigger digging a deeper hole into them with each passing second. Her finger grew anxious but tired as they faced each other down. Breathing grew ragged, and tears flushed her eyes. She watched him with the strained intent on killing him, but within moments of her fingers giving in his gun was forced out of his hand by the sharp steel of a throwing knife. There was only one man she knew with the kind of skill to lodge a knife into a mans hand from yards away, Ezio.

"Are you alright," his son asked as he helped her off of the horse.

"Yes, Elia, I am fine. But not so much for your friend," she declared as she rushed over to the blond, limping man whose blood was leaking through black pants. "Have my horse boy. Elia, take him to your sister and mother. You should be able to find it easily."

"But I don't know where they went!" He protested after he had helped Gabrielle onto the horse.

"Use your talent and make sure you aren't followed," she whispered hastily as she gazed into his eyes, freezing him with confusion. What talent was she speaking of?

"But-"

"Go my son. Your mother and sister need you where they are worse than we need you here," Ezio demanded as he kept Donato restrained with a blade under his throat.

Elia grew desperate in his inner want to stay, but he knew his father was right. Gabrielle was in no condition to make the journey on his own neither. The pain in his leg was beginning to make him cry out, especially when he attempted to grip the lodged arrow out of the muscle of his thigh. Elia watched as the blood leaked onto the saddle and even the pale white horse that seemed oblivious to the carnage around it. How he wished he could be that oblivious at times. It was difficult to have to pick between his fathers orders and his friends bleeding leg that he could lose quickly. Confused, he glanced at his friend once more, seeing the extreme pain and angst in his face, then at his fathers who was struggling to keep such a man subdued. Ghita, however, was the one that helped him decide that the life of the young Gabrielle was more important that hers that had lived and had children. Her eyes alone told him that blood ran deeper and longer than the spirit would in this realm.

"Yah!" He yelled as he gripped the reins to the horse that carried Gabrielle and his own. Leaving his father behind would have to be done swiftly.

Ezio watched them gallop on, making sure they were clear out of sight before he threw Donato to the ground. "This is you last warning, leave Rome forever and I wont kill you!"

"Assassin, do you think you have the power to do God's work?" He mocked as he stood to his full height, "You aren't powerful enough to take down me, I have God on my side."

His words stung Ghita into tears as she thought of her dead child, "God would never side with a monster like you! You are a baby killer! A spiller of innocent blood!" She spat as she took her hands around his thin neck. "You are a symbol of the devil!"

He gripped her vice hands, "Get your hands off of me you whore!" He cried out as he still attempted to pull her hands off of his throat, shocked that a woman had such a grip.

She pressed the metal harder against his throat as hot tears began to swell in her eyes again. Rage had become such a powerful demon within her that it had shadowed her clear thoughts and sent them spiraling into the darkest thoughts of revenge. They ravaged her good being, leaving her to decide whether or not to use Ezio's teachings of good will and control, or use her mothering instinct to move the blade across his throat and tear it open like the gut of a fish. Her hand trembled with immense anger to the point where she could no longer hold the blade any longer. It dropped to the ground, lodging itself in the moist soil almost like a sign of defeat. Donato took the chance to flee when her arms had relaxed enough for a quick get away which Ezio didn't stop. He was much more concerned about Ghita.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he placed a hand on her heaving shoulder.

"No, Ezio! I had him! I had the chance to take revenge on him for killing mi bambino and I couldn't do it!" She wailed into her hands. The creeping feeling of weakness and embarrassment of defeat had wrapped her in some sort of cocoon that she could break out of. She tried hard to hold her head up, but the weight of burden wouldn't allow it.

"You are a strong woman Ghita. Revenge is not the path to take, you know that."

"Ezio," she whined with a slight wane of her head. "What would you do if it were Elia he had killed?"

Ezio sighed quietly, acknowledging that she had struck some sort of soft spot within him.

"I understand," was all he said before he walked off. Ghita followed, knowing that what she said had created some sort of barrier between them that wouldn't fall with simple words.

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><p>Author note: I'm sorry guys, but I don't have the idea for the other half of this chapter yet. I've kinda lost will and stamina for it, but I promise that I'll try to make the next one very much longer than this. Please enjoy this peak, read, and reviews are always greatly appreciated.<p> 


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